Serpents In the Garden
by Timesprite
Summary: (Cable, Domino) Petty ideologies never stood a chance.


Disclaimer: Dom and Nate aren't mine, and neither is G.W. I'm just having way too much fun writing everyone bitching at everyone else. Set during/after Cable & Deadpool #7, and before #8. This has only had one quick beta, so please forgive goofs.

Rated: Er... PG-13, I guess? They have potty mouths.

Serpents In the Garden  
By: Timesprite

By any standards, what he was doing was borderline insane. Of course, given the whole world was currently up in arms over whether he was playing benevolent god or mad tyrant, it probably wasn't worth much contemplation.

Life was so much more interesting when he had Domino to warm his bed.

And it'd been such a long time, too. He was almost--but not completely--surprised she'd agreed to it. But then, Dom's reasons for doing anything were not what the rest of the world would ever have termed 'logical.'

She'd changed a lot since the last time they'd spent any real time together. He knew he had, as well, but he didn't have it written across his body in something akin to neon letters.

It wasn't easy to ignore. The taut pink scar tissue spread across her back from the right like an ink stain, a constant reminder that, by all rights, the woman sleeping next to him should have been dead.

He knew her story. He'd been out of the loop, but Sam was persistent, had found a way to contact him when he didn't want to be found. Sam'd thought he needed to know. Damned sense of duty--the boy hated to see his surrogate 'parents' at odds.

He knew Dom didn't believe it was her luck that'd seen her resurrected. Sam believed she'd been set up, and he was inclined to agree. By what means, and for what goal--besides the obvious--they might never know.

"Surveying the terrain?"

"Thought you were asleep."

"I was. You should know I've got a sixth sense about people watching me." She rolled onto her side, not bothering with the sheet. "If you think that's a souvenir, you shoulda seen the fucking thing that made it," she continued. "Now that was a helluva sight."

"You've always had a talent for getting into trouble."

She snorted. "I blame you. You've been bad for my self-preservation instincts. That martyr complex must have rubbed off."

"Were you always this mean?"

"Always. It's why you like me so much. Don't tell me you're getting senile now, too."

"Never." He trailed a hand lightly along her side. "I know what you're doing."

She arched an eyebrow. "Do you now?"

"You didn't join Bridge's little crusade to help me out," he replied casually. "You think I need to be dealt with."

"Of course I do," she responded, shifting to sit against the headboard. "And if you could see past your own ego, you'd agree with me."

"You think this is ego?"

"Trying to play savior to the planet? It's either an act of supreme narcissism or insanity. And I know you're not insane."

His eye flashed bright for a moment. "You sure?"

She smirked at him. "Not any more than _I_ am, anyway," she amended. "I think that puts us on even ground. You're not going to get me to change my mind, you know."

"Oh, I know. It doesn't matter. There's nothing you can do about it."

She snorted. "Like I'm going to believe that. I wouldn't be here if you didn't think I was a threat. Keep your friends close, Nathan..."

He reached over and grabbed her arm none too gently. "Maybe I just missed you."

"After all this time, you missed me." She shook her head. "So you gave me the spare set of keys to your floating fortress, knowing full well I plan to take you out. Even you don't need to get laid that badly."

"Maybe I needed my very own Mary Magdalene."

Her lips quirked slightly. "She wasn't actually a prostitute, you know. She just got a bad rap."

"And what about you?"

"What about me?"

"Bridge doesn't know you've been coming here."

"Of course not. Bridge is uncreative. He wouldn't understand."

"You're trying to play both ends against the middle, Dom. It's not going to accomplish anything."

"So you say." She extracted herself from his grip and the bed. "Problem is," she continued as she began pulling on her clothes, "you can't tell, can you?"

----

"I fail to see how this is going to accomplish anything," Domino yawned, leaning back in her chair.

Bridge shot her a look. "Mind not undermining the whole mission?"

She waved a hand at him. "C'mon, G.W. He's just going to knock you around like glorified ping-pong balls. You can't touch him."

"I notice you're not including yourself in that glowing assessment," he snarled.

"That's because I'm faster than he is. Even so, I'm not going to get very far."

"Fine." He leaned forward, palms flat against the briefing table. "What do you suggest?"

"Honest answer? I think you and Hammer ought to pull the sticks out of your respective asses. Sure, I'm not surprised Hammer's still got a mad-on for revenge, and you never could stand people who didn't play by the rules, but frankly, all this macho male bullshit is a waste of time."

"I don't consider ensuring the safety of this planet a 'waste of time,' and neither does Shield. If you're that disdainful of what we're trying to do, feel free to pack your bags and go home."

"And leave an old man, a quadriplegic, a second rate villain and two rookies to take on Nathan Summers wannabe-savior of humanity? I don't think so, G.W. And you shouldn't be so eager to get rid of me. I'm the best asset you have."

"You know," he retorted, glaring at her, "you've always been one hell of a pain in the ass. But at least you were a professional."

"Times change, Bridge. People change, even if you're too bull-headed to see it. And none of this is going to matter if the planet goes nuclear over Nate's decision to play God. Now, if you want to have a hope in hell of completing the objective Shield has laid out for us, I suggest we talk."

----

"Nice try."

The hand closed around her wrist as the hotel door clicked shut. She had her gun against his temple a second later.

Nathan smirked. "That's an empty threat."

"I like the way the barrel of my gun looks against your head," she replied. "Making house calls now?"

"You were meeting with them," he replied, releasing her. "I came to find out what they had to say about me."

She lowered the gun. "Why not eavesdrop?"

A disgusted look crossed Nathan's face. "Bridge has got them psi-shielding the helicarrier. I could get around it, but it's not worth the effort."

"So take it from me, instead." She tucked her gun into the waistband of her jeans.

He frowned. "I... can't."

"Well, what do you know. Looks like you're just shit outta luck, aren't you?"

"What did you do?"

"It's bugging the hell out of you, isn't it? First Wilson, now me. You're batting zero, Nate."

"Your shields have always been bad," he replied. "You did something."

"I'm not the woman you used to know, Nate."

"Oh, no." He grabbed her roughly around the waist, looking down at her. "I know you. You've just stopped playing nice."

"I was nice?" She gave him a disbelieving look that changed to a smirk as she snaked a hand below the waist of his pants. "Fancy that."

He grabbed her wrists, holding them firmly between them with one hand. "You think that's going to distract me?"

"No," she replied with a smirk. "I think I just get off on the idea of Bridge storming around trying to make the world behave the way he wants it to while our number one threat is fucking me to exhaustion."

"That's rather spiteful, don't you think?"

"I'm a pragmatist, Nate. I take things as they come."

"You're a cynic, and borderline suicidal at that. Always have been."

"And you're just a scared little boy trying to make some sense out of his wasted life."

"Good to see we're on the same page. You're not going to hold this against me, are you?"

She smiled. "That depends. Are you going to out me to the others?"

"Oh, no," he replied. "It's so much more fun this way."

-fin-


End file.
